


Special Tea

by TulipFluff



Series: Gotham City Is Lonely Place, But It Helps to Have Friends [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Kidnapping, Mind/Mood Altering Substances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:21:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24628477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TulipFluff/pseuds/TulipFluff
Summary: Each Rogue is a master in their craft, but that doesn't mean they can't benefit from their fellow Rogues' specialties.Chapter 2: Jervis and Jonathan have a tea party and invite a less-than-willing guest.
Relationships: Jonathan Crane & Jervis Tetch
Series: Gotham City Is Lonely Place, But It Helps to Have Friends [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1783513
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	1. Special Tea

“Oh, calloo, callay, what frabjous day. A special tea to help others see _my_ way,” said Jervis with a giggle. Crane smiled at his friend’s antics. Although a hallucinogenic tea to create joy and elation wasn’t exactly Crane’s style, it was, admittedly, only a matter of tweaking his own formulas for the desired results. Packing the dried chemicals and necessary herbs into tea bags was an aesthetics choice, but also a logistics one. Heaven help them all if Crane gave Jervis a chemical spray gun.

“Indeed,” said Crane. “Now how about my payment?”

“Yes, yes, of course. You’ll find these chips a useful source.” A packet of rice-sized microchips was pressed into Crane’s hands. “Be very careful while inserting those. Don’t underestimate the bite of crows!”

Craw squawked at the pair, and Crane held out an arm in invitation. The crow flew to him and inspected the bag. Craw studied Jervis as the little British man approached with a pair of tweezers, a microchip pinched delicately between them. The bird stilled as Crane stroked him though, and Jervis easily placed the rice-sized chip under the feathers at the back of the skull. There was a moment, and then Craw twitched as though bitten by a flea, and nothing more. The chip’s hooks had tethered themselves and began to burrow flush with the skin.

Crane lifted his bird eye level and toyed with the feathers to get a look, Craw purring under the attention. “Excellent work, my friend. You’re certain the chip will cause no lasting damage?”

Jervis nodded. “I tested it extensively with my own mice, and a few pigeons. This isn’t a full mind override chip. Our feathered friend will remain 100% in control of his thoughts, but my chip will… convert… your commands into something his brainwaves can understand and will secrete a reward chemical for completing them. My lab tests show no signs of brain deterioration because we’re just establishing communication and rewarding it!”

Crane frowned. “You mean you essentially created a device that let’s us talk to animals?”

“Precisely! I can’t wait for the tests to start on converting animal thought to speech! I do hope the Chessur cat speaks in rhyme,” said Jervis wistfully.

Chuckling, Jonathan scooped up his hat with his free hand and plopped it on his head. Earlier, Jervis had installed the central control band as Jonathan had written down the instructions of the Wonderland tea they named Joy. Crane smiled to remember the way his later test subjects had taken to beating rats with sticks and calling them piñatas, giggling all the while eating bloody hearts with bloody teeth.

Wearing a central control band was always disorienting at first. Crane felt the static buzz of it along his temples, but it was neither painful nor insurmountable. He thought of Craw, and thought to himself, _Go perch by the window_. Craw looked at him. Craw preened at his feathers.

A moment later, the crow flew off to the window sill.

Jervis sighed.

“Instantaneous command is, unfortunately, something you chose to sacrifice,” the British man lamented. Jervis was more than willing to burn through an army of lab rats, and often, henchmen. Prolonged exposure to his normal microchips was quite damaging, neurologically speaking. “Still, I believe you’ll find that your birds’ response times improve through the microchip’s reward system. It will condition them to want to obey. But… since I’m not overriding anything, ultimately, they’ll always be free to choose.”

“Yes, well, you’ve delivered precisely what I wanted, then” said Crane. “Now, about my new toxin—”

“Tea!” Jervis interjected.

Crane conceded. “ _Tea_. Don’t. Drink it. Yourself.”

Jervis waved his concerns away. “Of course. I’m quite joyful myself already, my dear.”


	2. A Mad Tea Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jervis and Jonathan have a tea party and invite a guest to try their new tea.

**“A Mad Tea Party”**

_Be calm. Be calm_.

Janet took deep breath, held it, and then let it go. She did that twice more, then flexed the muscles in her hands, testing the cords that held her wrists. They were secure. Her eyes were blind-folded. Her ankles were lashed to the chair legs. Her captors—whoever they were—had left her like this a while ago, and she jumped at every sound that echoed through the building. She was alone and unharmed, but in Gotham, it was hard to say for how long.

The temperature of the room was pleasant. No drafts sent chills down her spine, that was all raw fear instead. She could safely assume that she wasn’t in some basement. The very edges of her blindfold suggested light. If she squirmed, she might be able to push the blindfold up a bit—

“Shame on you, Jonathan!” a lilting voice teased. Janet’s stomach dropped. She recognized the voice from television. The Mad Hatter. “Look at us, half past tea time! I do hope our guest forgives us.”

“You mean we’re terribly late then?” a voice drawled in response. A trepidation stirred with it, but Janet couldn’t place a name to this fear. There was still that familiarity though, and anyone in the company of the Mad Hatter must be trouble too. _Count your fortunes_ , Janet whispered. _You’ve still got your head yet._

The Mad Hatter chuckled, and Janet heard the door push open. Two sets of footsteps, and the dragging of chairs and—she realized she must be sitting at a tea party, listening to the delicate click of china and porcelain.

“Oh, dear me,” said the Hatter. “Those ruffians left you in such a state! Jonathan, remind me to speak to those Tweeds.” The blindfold was removed. The Mad Hatter leaned over her, a wickedly serrated knife in one hand. Janet gasped, and he tutted. “Easy now, my dear. Let me just—”

 _Snick!_ He cut one bond on her right wrist, freeing her arm. “There! One can’t enjoy tea without a free hand,” he said merrily. He tucked the knife away to a sheathe in his coat. Janet breathed again as he moved away and took his seat to her right.

The second voice was Dr. Jonathan Crane she realized, and there was the King of Terror himself, sitting to her left at a small circular table. He was sans his Scarecrow regalia, but she recognized him from the mugshots that often circulated during his escapes. He looked quite bored, his long, lanky frame slouched in his chair. There was an assortment of ceramics on the table, tea cups, and plates of delectable looking snacks. His spidery fingers snagged a small square of cake for himself.

The table set only seemed to contrast the gray and drab room more starkly, Gotham’s standard apartment style. The walls were cracked and dusty with cobwebs in the corners. It was the typical abandoned slums that sheltered the desperate criminal types that lived in Gotham. Places like it existed on the Gotham fringes everywhere, thriving in the way of a fungal colony in the dampest, darkest cave.

“Have you any sweet tea?” said the Scarecrow. He smiled wickedly when the Hatter twitched.

“I specifically told my people to leave you cake and you insult me by mentioning that— _that_ ,” groused the Hatter to himself. The Scarecrow smiled fondly, and the Hatter busied himself preparing tea for the three of them. Despite his request, the Scarecrow easily accepted his cup.

Janet watched it all unfold, shivering in the room’s warmth.

“Have some tea, dear, it will help with the chill,” said the Hatter.

There were no 10/6 cards that Janet could see, besides the ever-present one perched in the brim of the Hatter’s top hat. She was, at the moment, free to do as she pleased. She also remembered the knife in his coat and considered that no, she really wasn’t.

Her hand shook as she took the cup, but she didn’t drop it or spill a sip. She dreaded to think of what the Hatter might have done at such an insult. She wasn’t even sure what she was doing here. She wasn’t blond like all previous Alices had been. Truly, she had assumed the Mad Hatter was one of her lesser Rogues to fear.

She held the cup to her lips, and feeling the eyes on her, took a sip. It was bitter—yet, pleasant. She took another sip, vaguely aware of the Hatter’s smile.

Oooh, lovely! He should smile more often.

“You should smile more often,” Janet said, snapping her mouth shut in surprise. A moment passed and then she giggled. “I don’t know why I said that.” She busied herself with another sip of tea. The room seemed brighter. Why was she upset?

“Do you like the tea, dear?” said the Scarecrow.

“Oh, it’s wonderful! May I have some cake?” she said. Her left hand twitched to reach for one of the squares, and she puzzled to see it tied down. She smiled back at her friends. “I’m stuck,” she said guilelessly.

“Dear me, you are!” said the Hatter. He quickly cut her left wrist free and passed the plate of pastries. She took a bite; it was heavenly. She took another sip of tea.

“I love this room!” she exclaimed.

“Do you?” Scarecrow asked. “What… specifically?”

“The colors! It’s so bright and cheerful! And so bold! And you are so friendly. I’m very lucky to have such kind friends, and such lovely cake and tea!” There was no more tea in her cup. Bright colors swirled around her, light and fluffy. The Scarecrow and the Mad Hatter smiled. She smiled back. “May I have some more, please?”

“I’m glad you liked the tea,” said the Hatter. “Of course, you can have more—later. But right now, I’m afraid you’re terribly late!”

Janet gasped. “Oh dear! I’m late! I’m late! …For what?”

The Hatter waved a hand. Two men appeared. They were identical, Janet thought, and familiar. She smiled to see more friends. “Tweedledee and Tweedledum will take you to a book reading. I’m sure you’ll love the book!” One man bent to cut her legs free, and she wiggled her feet. The other grabbed her arms and pulled her up. She was so excited! A book reading! The Hatter pressed a gold pocket watch into her hands. “You dropped this, dear!”

“I didn’t even realize,” said Janet, and she smiled at the rabbit ears on its casing.

The Tweeds escorted her out, and Jonathan smiled. “Don’t worry,” he said, sneaking a spoonful of sugar into his tea while the Hatter’s back was turned. “The first dose is often overwhelming but leaves the subjects very open to suggestion. I dare say, let her spend the next hour or two listening to your reading of Alice’s Adventures will make her quite the interesting character.”

“I’m just so happy to see her happy. ‘One of the deep secrets of life is that all that is really worth the doing is what we do for others.’”

“Quite right,” agreed the Scarecrow easily. He sipped his tea and said, “Isn’t there already a White Rabbit operating in Gotham?” He bit the inside of his cheek to stop a smile at the Hatter’s sour face.

“She won’t even _talk_ with me!”

“Can’t catch her, can you?”

“She’s _infuriatingly_ quick.”

“She’ll probably try to take you for infringement,” mused the Scarecrow.

“ _I was the Mad Hatter first_!”

Across the hall, Janet listened to her stories, smiling at the colors and feeling that phrase echo. _I’m late! I’m late! Oh dear, oh dear, I shall be too late!_

_Am I the same as I was when I woke this morning? Who in the world am I now?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Jaina, but it's a bit weird that there's so many Wonderland themed villains in Gotham that aren't *completely* allied. I know they eventually work together, but until then, how weird?  
> Plus, quotes by Lewis Carroll and Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.

**Author's Note:**

> The Wonderland "Joy" tea was inspired by the chemical Joy in We Happy Few.


End file.
